


Mokita

by archangelwithashotgun



Series: Tumblr Prompts [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Destiel - Freeform, First Kiss, M/M, Mentions of Casifer, Mokita, One Word Prompts, Pining, Pre-Slash to Slash, Season/Series 11 Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-20
Updated: 2016-04-20
Packaged: 2018-06-03 08:13:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6603448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/archangelwithashotgun/pseuds/archangelwithashotgun
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mokita (New Guinean): the truth everyone knows but nobody says.</p>
<p>Dean contemplates over an unconscious Castiel after the angel expels Lucifer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mokita

**Author's Note:**

> Whew! This was quite the challenge. Sabriel is my strongest ship, and this is my first time writing Destiel. Hope I do it justice, and I hope you all enjoy!

 

_"Castiel? Oh, he's not here. You see, he has this weakness: he likes you.”_

_“I think too much heart was always Castiel's problem.”_

_“When Castiel first laid a hand on you in Hell, he was lost!”_

_"I was getting too close to the humans in my charge... You."_

_“For the first time, I feel...”_

_“I´m hunted. I rebelled, and I did it – all of it – for you.”_

_::_

It had been difficult, almost impossible, but they had finally managed to convince Cas to expel Lucifer from his body. The fallen archangel’s grace had exploded out of Castiel’s open mouth with a vengeance, and past the shrill Enochian shriek, they had heard the wailing echo of Castiel’s scream.

And then Lucifer was gone, and Castiel had collapsed in an unconscious heap before Dean could lunge forward to catch him. Chanting his name with borderline panic, Dean had dropped to his knees beside Cas and cradled him close. The angel had remained eerily still and wouldn’t wake up no matter how much Dean attempted to rouse him, and for a fleeting, heart-wrenching moment the hunter had thought Cas was dead, at least until he caught sight of the shallow movements of Castiel’s chest, lifting and lowering with every breath he made. Sam had driven the Impala back to the Bunker, Dean opting to sit in the back with Castiel, resting the angel’s head on his shoulder as he held him close. Sam had given him concerned looks through the rearview mirror but said nothing. Dean had hardly felt it in him to feel grateful.

They had set him up in Dean’s room, laying him in Dean’s bed, and Dean had to fight the inappropriate laughter bubbling in his chest because _Why doesn’t this idiot have his own room yet?_ The seraphim literally had the Devil inside of him, his mind and body were distressed in horrifying ways, he wasn’t waking up, and all Dean could think of was the fact that Cas didn’t have his own room in the Bunker.

Dean rubbed a calloused hand over his face, a large sigh flowing past his lips. That’d be his first project once the angel actually woke up: allowing the angel to properly move in with him and Sam, because damnit, the angel _deserved_ it.

Dean wasn’t angry. Not anymore. Staring down at the angel in his bed, the entity that he had grown to (dare he even think it) love, he could not find one once of familiar, blood-boiling rage.

No. Now… he just felt empty.

Empty because he ran out of ways to hate himself for driving Cas away.

Empty because the intense self-loathing burning within him finally died down to ashes, because Cas had thought himself expendable enough to sacrifice himself to be Lucifer’s vessel.

Empty because Cas wasn’t awake yet.

Empty because _it hadn’t been said_.

Everyone knew it. Sam knew it, Dean knew it, and even the _angels_ , with all their stunted emotional understanding, knew it. But Cas didn’t. And he might never know it.

Dean sniffed roughly, hissing back the lump that threatened to form in his throat, glaring back the tears biting at the back of his eyes.

“Damnit, Cas,” he growled, leaning forward, resting his elbows on his knees. He bowed his head and closed his eyes, trembling out a breath.

A groan sounded in the room. Quiet, weak, but there. Dean snapped his head up, eyes wide and full of fresh tears, instantly losing the fight when the sound first made itself present.

“Cas?” His voice managed to waver fiercely even with that one syllable.

“Oh,” Cas sighed out in a groan, lids fluttering as they strained to open. Castiel’s brows deepened into a furrow, a pained expression flickering across his face. “… Dean?”

A huff of relieved air, a wavering grin, and Dean lunged out of his chair, towering over Castiel’s body. “Cas… _Oh, thank God_ ,” he breathed, eyes flickering frantically around Castiel’s face, constantly reassuring his mind that Castiel was okay. _He was okay_.

“I believe He may have had a hand in this, yes,” Cas grunted out, eyes crinkled in confusion, slowly raising a hand to rub at his temple.

Dean barked out a coarse chuckle, sniffing as the tears in his eyes finally trickled down his cheeks. He licked his lips, and without another thought pressed them to Castiel’s.

He almost started sobbing when he felt Castiel’s hand, warm and certain, clasping securely around his neck to pull him closer.

Everyone knew it. But maybe it didn’t need to be said.


End file.
